


Uncle Elliot

by TheInverseUniverse



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Leverage
Genre: (Ignoring all the books after), Alex Never Went to Live with the Pleasures, Alex Rider Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence Against Children, Eliot Adopts Alex, Eliot doing his damnedest to not get angry, Elliot Spencer is Alex Rider's Uncle, Elliot Spencer is Jack Starbright's Brother, Elliot curses like a sailor when he's not on TV, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lowkey an OT3 kidfic, MI6 is Evil, Post-Book 9: Scorpia Rising (Alex Rider), Protective Eliot Spencer, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25258804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInverseUniverse/pseuds/TheInverseUniverse
Summary: When the team runs into Elliot's nephew on a job, it can't be good. Why is Alex running around with Scorpia skills and MI6 tech? This will not be good for Elliot's blood pressure.------Post-Scorpia Rising, Alex is 'working for' MI6 full time. When he runs into Jack's brother on a mission, it can't be good. Why is Uncle Elliot running with thieves? But if they can get him away from MI6, this could work out pretty good for him.
Relationships: Alex Rider & Team Leverage, Eliot Spencer & Team Leverage, Elliot Spencer & Alex Rider
Comments: 71
Kudos: 348





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Starting another niche crossover and creating an entire universe in my google drive? No.... 
> 
> At least I wrote the whole fic before posting this time.

Elliot rang the doorbell and waited patiently for the door to the Rider home to open. 

When it did, a stern man with brown hair sized him up. If Elliot had been back home, he would have been the perfect picture of a returned soldier, stiff and proud in dress greens with his hat in his hand. But in London, he was an out of place foreign soldier standing awkwardly on a stranger’s stoop.

“Elliot Starbright, sir,” he greeted, holding out his hand. When the other man shook it firmly, he said, “I’m looking for my sister, Jack Starbright. Is she here?”

“Ian Rider,” the man replied. His suspicion softened at Jack’s name, and he nodded. “Yes, she is. She told me you’d be arriving. Please, come inside.” Ian was perfunctory and polite as he held the door for Elliot.

The inside of the Rider home was modest, yet well cared for and nicely furnished. Ian shouted down the hall for Jack, and they stood in the entryway waiting for her.

“You’re in the American army, then?” Ian asked, looking at his decorated uniform with approval.

Elliot nodded and replied, “Yes, sir. I’m stationed at RAF Fairford. It seemed like as good a chance as any to visit Jack.”

Jack had yet to appear, but Elliot caught sight of a small, blonde head poking around the corner behind Ian. When they made eye contact, the boy, maybe five, ducked back into the other room. A moment later, he reappeared and Elliot winked, earning himself a gap-toothed grin.

“Alex,” Ian called, and the boy jumped, caught. He slunk into the hall to stand in front of Ian. Ian asked, “What did I tell you about eavesdropping?”

Instead of the normal ‘to not to,’ Alex said, “Not to get caught or not to bother.”

Ian nodded in approval and said, “Exactly.” Alex smiled proudly, glad to not be in trouble.

“Hey, buddy,” Elliot greeted with a wave.

“Alex, this is Sergeant Starbright, Jack’s brother,” Ian introduced with full British formality.

“Elliot,” he corrected, dropping to one knee to offer Alex a hand.

Alex shook his hand with wide eyes, looking at his uniform with the usual admiration of six-year-olds with bins of plastic army men beneath their beds.

“Where’s Jack?” Ian asked Alex.

“She started the washing machine a minute ago,” Alex said. At Ian’s suspicious look, he explained, “The water clicks started.”

Listening carefully, Elliot could indeed hear the ticking of an older water meter.

Ian too looked impressed. “Go get her. Tell her Elliot’s here.”

Alex nodded and scampered off.

“Smart kid,” Elliot said.

Ian grinned and said, “I have a feeling he’ll give me a world of trouble one day.”

\------

Elliot visited the Rider household several more times in the six months he was stationed at Fairford. He had even scored Alex a tour of the planes and tanks, which had delighted the youngster. Nothing like a boy and big machines.

During one visit, Alex had called Ian ‘Uncle Ian,’ making the man grimace and Jack laugh.

“He hates being called uncle,” Jack explained.

Alex whirled on Elliot and announced with the boundless certainty of a kindergartener, “If I can’t call him Uncle Ian, I’m gonna call you Uncle Elliot!”

Elliot opened and closed his mouth a couple times before Alex screeched in laughter. He had a new favorite joke.

He was Uncle Elliot from that day forward.

\------

Eventually, Elliot’s deployment in London ended, and he shuffled around the Middle East and Africa until being stationed in Algiers. He had two weeks leave, since Uncle Sam had seen fit to give him time off after his Delta unit’s disastrous joint MI6 mission. Bunch of clowns, the whole British intelligence apparatus. Faced with either putzing around Algeria, flying back to America, or catching a red eye to London, Elliot chose the red eye.

He had visited Jack, and by extension the Riders, several times since leaving Britain, but this would be his first visit in almost a year. Alex would be, what, seven? He wondered if he would still insist on calling him Uncle Elliot.

When Elliot arrived at the Rider home, he bumped into Ian on his way to work. The banker was harried and in a rush, only sparing him a perfunctory greeting. As Ian unlocked his car, his jacket rode up, and Elliot caught sight of a familiar model of handgun. 

Suddenly a dozen oddities fell into place, and Elliot stared at him, shell-shocked. Ian was MI6. They were very distinctive agents.

Ian gave him a curt wave as he pulled out of the driveway, and Elliot spent another moment in shock before finally going to the door. As he rang, he wondered, did Jack know? What would Ian do about him knowing? It was probably best to keep it to himself.

\------

The years came and went. Elliot remained Uncle Elliot, even as the joke wore off and habit set in. Eventually he left the service, and had one more visit with the Riders, his only one as a civilian.

During this visit, Elliot realized how useful Alex’s extracurriculars were. How useful to their line of work, that is. He just hoped Alex would choose his future for himself and not let his uncle pressure him into the military. He knew the weight of familial expectations, and Ian’s field was a lot bigger commitment than managing the family hardware store.

But life marched forward. Elliot’s time being ‘normal’ didn’t last long, and he soon found himself caught up in more shady endeavors. It was a gradual slide from ‘foreign actors’ to ‘hostile foreign actors’ to ‘non-state actors.” And before he knew it, Elliot was a proper gallowglass.

His visits to Jack became fewer and farther between as his work became less predictable, and eventually he planned them around Ian’s ‘business trips.’ He didn’t need the agent to recognize him for what he was. Before long, Jack and Alex were all that remained of his old life. Moreau might be slowly stripping his soul away, but he was still Uncle Elliot. In London, he was still human.

\------

Ian died. 

It sure as hell wasn’t a car crash. Elliot’s sources pointed the finger at Gregorovich. Jack called to tell him she would be Alex’s guardian, and that she planned to stay in London indefinitely. But then things got hinky in Pakistan, and his world shrunk to the job.

Once it was over, he returned to Nate’s little dream team, and didn’t have time to visit Jack. He should have made time.

Jack died.

When Elliot got the news, he just collapsed. Parker and Hardison helped him pick up the pieces, but the hole still ate at him. How could he not have visited? She was gone, and there was nothing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed! I have the rest of this fic written, so I'll be posting the next few chapters over the coming weeks. Drop me a review if you want to make my day!


	2. First Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But sir, that's my emotional support in medias res!

When he and Parker came to the dead end, Hardison cursed up a storm that would have made his Nana wash his mouth with soap. Parker stopped short behind him and looked up for an exit, but didn’t find any useful vents or windows.

“Now what?” She asked.

Hardison looked down the hallway they had run down, and asked, “Where are you, Elliot?”

“In the other building,” Elliot growled from over the comm. “I’m coming but it’ll take me a few minutes to get there.”

“I don’t think we have a few minutes,” Parker hissed.

The sound of approaching guards echoed down the hall. “-went this way!”

“Or seconds,” Hardison added.

“Okay, if you get caught,” Nate said, adjusting the plan on the fly. “Go peacefully until we can break you out. Don’t get shot.”

Hardison scoffed and said, “Oh, that’s very reassuring! This is starting to feel like Plan M!”

Footsteps pounded around the corner, and Hardison tensed, ready for everything to fall apart. 

But instead of guards, a teenaged boy skidded around the corner. He was blonde, maybe fourteen or fifteen, and also swore when he saw the dead end. And he had a gun.

Two guards followed after him, shouting for him to stop, put his hands up, the usual. Instead of turning around, the kid pointed back behind himself and shot the two guards without even looking at them. They fell to the ground, motionless.

“Holy shit!” Hardison screeched, jumping into the air in a tangle of limbs.

“What’s going on?” Elliot demanded. “I hear gunshots!”

Parker said, “We’re fine.”

“This freaky child just killed two guards without even looking at them!” Hardison shouted into his comm. What in the actual hell?

The kid gave him an annoyed look and said, “They’re not dead. It’s a tranq.” Oh, so he was British too.

Parker stared with naked excitement at the gun and asked Hardison, “Can you make me one of those?”

“Not now, woman!”

“Are you guys trying to get out?” The kid asked, looking them over appraisingly. Hardison hadn’t felt this judged by a high schooler since his senior prom.

Parker nodded and asked, “Do you know the way?”

“Yeah,” the newcomer said, nodding the direction he came. “Didn’t mean to head down this deadend, but they were just keeping my stuff in this wing.”

“Lead the way, tiny ninja,” Hardison said. Was this kid for real? Why was he here?

The kid rolled his eyes and said, “Ninjas don’t use guns. And it’s Alex.”

Alex led them back the way they came. He notably made a left where Hardison had earlier taken a right.

“I told you it was left, Hardison,” Parker hissed and Hardison raised his hands in surrender. 

“It was a fifty-fifty shot!”

After a stealthy minute or two, they came upon the exit. Another guard was waiting there, on high alert from the gunshots but not abandoning his post. 

They ducked back around the corner to regroup and plan. Parker tried to run straight at the guard, eager to use the self-defense techniques Elliot had taught her, but Hardison pulled her back and whispered, “He has a gun too, Parker!” He was surrounded by crazy people.

Paying their argument no mind, Alex leaned out from behind the corner and shot the guard with his tranq gun. “Let’s go!” he called, racing for the door.

Hardison shook his head in disbelief as he and Parker followed the creepy child.

\------

Finally reaching the light of day, Alex blinked up at the bright sky. His escape had taken a couple of days, and he hadn’t been outside in probably three. He also realized that he didn’t know where they were, since he had never seen this place on the outside. They seemed to be in some corporate compound, based on the identical buildings and trees spanning the horizon.

Hardison and Parker, who Alex had gathered were thieves or corporate saboteurs, started in one direction, so he followed them, keeping an eye out for guards.

“What is this place?” Alex asked as they ran away from the building, keeping up with them easily despite the pain from his injuries.

Parker turned to him and frowned. “Blackburn’s campus. Where they do all their secret evil stuff.”

“You okay, kid?” Hardison asked, frowning as they rounded a corner.

“If you got a way out, I’m great,” Alex shot back. All of his injuries could wait until safety. He kept his head on a swivel as they made it to an empty parking lot on the edge of the campus where a lone van waited.

As the three of them approached the van, Alex noticed three more people running towards them from the buildings nearby. When they were five yards from the vehicle, Alex turned and, smooth as breathing, shot the two men. They stumbled for another couple of steps before falling limp. Alex turned his aim to the other man, who was now running even faster, but Parker yanked his arm down.

“He’s with us!” she shouted.

Oops. He nodded and pointed his gun back down. They made it the rest of the way and a dark-haired woman opened the door to the van as they arrived.

The last man ran towards them before stopping short a few yards away.

“Alex!” The man barked, and Alex whipped around to face him. And then froze.

“Uncle Elliot?” He demanded, shocked. What was he doing here?

Halfway into the van, Hardison turned and said, “The freaky assassin child is your nephew? Of course he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we'll get those good good interactions in the next chapter, I promise.


	3. In The Van

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient and really want y'all to get some actual Elliot and Alex interaction, so I'm getting ahead of my posting schedule. Two chapters in one day!

Elliot was halfway across the parking lot when he saw Parker and Hardison’s tag along, who turned and shot the guards in the space of a breath.

The blonde man was running, and the two guards were approaching at an angle relative to him. So to make that shot without even pausing to aim was impressive enough. But then to make the next one right after, and both with a handgun, was remarkable. There were only a few in the world Elliot knew that could do that, and they were all in Scorpia’s ‘instinctive shooting’ cult. What the hell had Hardison and Parker stumbled into?

Sophie threw the door open as they got to the van, and the newcomer turned. Elliot saw his face and froze.

Not only was this Scorpia agent a kid, it was a kid Elliot knew. It was-

“Alex!”

Alex’s eyes widened, and he asked, “Uncle Elliot?”

Hardison, who was halfway into the van, turned and asked, “The freaky assassin child is your nephew? Of course he is.”

Freaky assassin child might be right. Was Alex part of Scorpia? What had happened since Ian’s death?

“What in the hell are you doing here, kid?” Elliot demanded, closing the gap between them. 

Alex scoffed and said, “I could ask you that!”

This parking lot was too exposed. More guards would come, and they needed to get on the road. 

“We ain’t doing this in the open.” He knew Alex, knew how headstrong this kid was, and he knew that trying to talk him into anything would take too long. So instead Elliot grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him to the van.

“Hey!” Alex protested, pulling back and trying to break Elliot’s hold. He kicked at Elliot’s ankle, sending pain through the hitter’s leg, but Elliot held fast and dragged him into the vehicle.

Hardison, who had climbed into the driver’s seat, asked, “Is Elliot kidnapping a child? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Shut up and drive, Hardison!” Elliot growled, struggling with Alex as Parker hopped in and closed the door.

As the van jerked into motion, Alex dropped his weight and kicked Elliot in the stomach, finally making him lose his grip. The kid fell to the floor and scrambled back against the wall of the van. He whipped his head around like a trapped animal, scanning the back of the vehicle for threats and exits as his chest heaved.

“Elliot!” Sophie cried, offended on Alex’s behalf.

Nate turned around from the passenger seat and said, “No, answer Hardison. Are we kidnapping a child?”

“Only technically. If he wants to leave once we’re far enough from the guards that want to kill us, he can,” Elliot explained. He gave Nate a look that said trust me, and Nate stared him down for another moment before nodding. Elliot turned back to Alex, who still had a tight grip on his weapon. “Give me your gun.”

“No,” Alex said, glaring up at him. He brought his weapon to his side and clutched it tighter. “If you’re going to let me go, why do you need to take it?”

Elliot crossed his arms and said, “Because you’re fourteen and I don’t know if I can trust you with a gun. Don’t make me take it from you.”

Alex pointed it at Hardison and said, “I can shoot him before you do.”  
“Or we could not shoot the driver!” Hardison called, looking at him through the rearview.

“Then he’d crash and those guards that want to kill us all would find you,” Elliot explained, staring Alex down. The kid was hard-headed, but not that stupid.

Gritting his teeth, Alex handed the gun over. Within two seconds, Elliot had it disassembled and was looking at the ammo. They were strange, with a blue gel capsule held in a three strand thin metal cage on top of a usual .38 shell casing.

“Nice design. Looks like simunition, but it knocked those guys on their ass.” He looked at Alex and asked, “Smithers make it?”

Alex’s eyes widened in shock, which confirmed it. Kid needed a better poker face.

Elliot nodded and pocketed the gun and ammo. “Figured it was him.”

“How did you know that?!” Alex demanded, leaning forward.

“He’s a very distinctive engineer,” Elliot explained. Even an idiot could recognize Smithers’ work. No one on Earth compared.  
Alex frowned and looked around the van. He was probably putting their skills together from what data he had. “How do you know about Smithers? Who are you people?”

Elliot looked to Nate for guidance on whether to tell him.

“Do you trust him?” Nate asked Elliot, leaving it to him. Elliot had started this course of action, so Nate was letting him see it through. He was trusting Elliot with this.

Parker butted in and said, “He was running from the same people as us and he saved me and Hardison.”

Elliot turned back to Alex and asked, “Are you working for ‘6 or Scorpia?”

“I’m not working for fucking Scorpia!” Alex denounced, looking offended. He stood up to face Elliot and said, “I’m not working for anyone.”

“Bullshit. You shoot like a Scorpia assassin and you have an MI6 weapon,” Elliot countered.

Sophie, who had remained silent despite her discomfort, said, “Surely a child isn’t working for any organization.”

“Everyone knows MI6 has a kid,” Parker said. “The talk of the town has been people’s bosses getting taken down or killed by a kid working for the British CIA.”

Alex looked between the door and Elliot again. They were moving too fast for Alex to jump out, but Elliot stayed on his toes in case he tried something. Relenting, Alex slumped his shoulders and said, “MI6. Well, MI6 loaned me to the CIA.”

Elliot stared at him for a long moment. He couldn’t believe that Alex was the rumored child spy. Frankly, he had trouble believing that it was anything more than a rumor. But he knew Ian had trained Alex from birth for this, the bastard.

He looked to Nate and said, “Yeah, I trust him. He was a good kid last I knew him.”

Alex smiled softly at that. The van hit a large bump, and Alex steadied himself before sitting back down. Elliot followed suit, sitting across from him. 

Lucille was big enough to fit them all, but it didn’t have seats in the back other than Hardison’s swivel chairs. Parker and Sophie were already seated on the floor, while Nate and Hardison sat upfront. 

Together, the team explained their little setup, how they help people with no recourse against big business and powerful people. Alex asked a few clarifying questions here and there, but mostly he just listened, and he slowly looked impressed under his jade.

After they finished and Alex had accepted their explanation, Elliot asked, “So what the hell, kid? Why would you get involved in that crap so young? I know Jack is gone now, but you’ve been at this longer than that, and I can’t see her letting you do this.” 

He would have guessed Ian put him up to it, but based on the timing of all the rumors about MI6’s wunderkind, he had started after Ian’s death. Had Alex been looking for revenge against Gregorovich?

“It wasn’t a ‘let’ situation,” Alex said stiffly. He set his jaw and said, “We both told MI6 no, and they said they’d deport Jack and put me in a boys home.”

From the front, Nate demanded, “Are you saying that MI6 blackmailed you, a what, thirteen, fourteen year old kid, into working for them?” Righteous anger and concerned father were written all over him.

“I just turned fifteen,” Alex corrected. “But yeah. They did.”

Elliot slammed his fist into the wall behind him. “Those bastards.”

Alex nodded tiredly and said, “Yep.” After a moment of quiet, he asked, “Where are we exactly?”

“Aways outside White Mountain National Forest,” Sophie explained. Alex looked at her blankly and she said, “Vermont. About a hundred miles outside Boston. We’ll be there in two hours or so.”

“Oh. I was at Blackburn’s Albany Office when I got caught,” Alex explained, leaning his head back against the side of the van. “Didn’t realize they’d taken me so far. It’s Wednesday, right?”

“Yes,” Sophie answered, frowning.

Jesus, had Blackburn been holding the kid captive? Elliot looked him over, but he didn’t see anything worse than some bruises on his face and handcuff injuries on his wrists. In the time since Elliot had dragged Alex into the vehicle, he had gone from looking like a caged animal to something approaching relaxed.

“You all right?” He asked.

Alex nodded and closed his eyes. “Yeah, just tired. Thanks for the lift, Uncle E.”

“Of course, kid,” Elliot said, his voice softening with fondness. 

He thought about the time he and Jack had taken Alex to the London zoo, back when Alex had been around nine, and Elliot had been trapped in his work for Moreau. Alex had fallen asleep in between the lion and cheetah exhibits, and Elliot had brought him back to the car. As he’d carried the sleeping child, Elliot had marveled at how someone as mired in filth as himself could have such normalcy. How could someone like him be trusted around something so innocent?

Over the next few minutes, Alex slowly nodded off, until he was finally asleep and breathing easy.

Parker leaned over to Elliot and whispered, “Why is your nephew British?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long term readers of mine either hate or love my fun facts, so:
> 
> Fun Fact! Simunition is a type of training ammunition used by law enforcement that shoots balls of wax instead of bullets. Bonus fun fact! A cop shot me with it once during a training exercise. He felt very bad about it.
> 
> Next five chapters will either be up in the next two weeks, or whenever I get impatient and post them early.


	4. At Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has references to canon typical violence against children. So heads up.
> 
> And this chapter's longer than the others, so enjoy!

“Hey, kid, wake up.”

Alex felt a hand on his shoulder and lashed out in a panic, punching the person who woke him.

Hardison stumbled back, holding his jaw. “Jeeze! Calm down, Junior Bourne!”

“Uh, sorry,” Alex said. Oops. He stood, wincing from his injuries and in sympathy with Hardison. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine! Just remind me not to wake up weird ninja children next time,” Hardison grumbled, climbing out of the van in a huff.

Elliot poked his head in and said, “We’re here. Come on.” He grinned and added, “Nice job with Hardison.”

“I heard that!” Hardison called.

“Where’s here?” Alex asked, climbing out of the van. 

They were in an underground garage, and the rest of the team was heading to a stairwell. Hardison rubbed his jaw and muttered under his breath as he plodded up the stairs.

Elliot locked the vehicle and said, “Boston, under our headquarters. Hardison owns this building and Nate lives over the bar. Come on upstairs and we’ll get you squared.”

Alex shrugged and followed Elliot up two flights of stairs, thinking about what to do. 

He’d used his locator beacon in Albany three days ago, and MI6 hadn’t come before Blackburn’s thugs had gotten to him. They’d knocked him unconscious and taken his earring out when they took all his weapons. After he broke out of his prison in their deep woods facility, he had found his weapons and made his escape, but never found his locator earring. 

MI6 had no idea where he was. It was... freeing. The only time they didn’t know his whereabouts these days was when he was in danger on missions, and he was pretty sure he was safe here. He’d even made the stupid mistake of falling asleep and nothing happened. It was a nice change.

When they got upstairs, Elliot opened the door for him and Alex stepped out into the loft and looked around. The flat was spacious and hipsterish, with hardwood floors, large windows, and six giant TVs on the walls.

“I guess crime does pay.”

Nate chuffed as he poured himself a drink. He and Sophie were at the bar, while Hardison and Parker had disappeared to their respective areas. 

Alex followed Elliot over to them, and Sophie said, “Welcome to Leverage Consulting and Associates.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, taking a seat. So this was where the magic happened.

“Are you hungry, dear?” She asked, eyes soft with concern. Sophie seemed to be a real motherly type, but maybe it was just Alex bringing it out in her. He must look a mess, bruised and haggard. It didn’t help that the closest thing he’d had to a shower in the last four days was when they’d turned the sprinklers on in his cell overnight.

Her question reminded him of the pangs in his stomach and nodded eagerly. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve eaten in two or three days.”

Sophie’s eyes widened and she said, “Goodness! Well, Elliot, what are you waiting for? Go feed him!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Elliot said, raising his hands in surrender. “Tell the others I’m making dinner. Come on, Alex, kitchen’s this way.” He stalked off into another room, surly again, and Alex lifted a hand in farewell to Nate and Sophie before following him.

Elliot stomped into the kitchen and opened the pantry, pulling out a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of gatorade. He slammed them down in front of a stool and ordered, “Eat these. Slowly.”

Alex nodded and sat down at the counter. He watched Elliot slam a frying pan onto the stove and said, “You don’t have to cook, really. I’m fine with this, I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” If he’d realized having to cook would piss Elliot off this badly, he wouldn’t have said anything.

“What?” Elliot demanded, spinning around. He frowned at Alex for a moment before grimacing and saying, “Ah hell. I’m not mad at you or that I have to cook.”

“Okay...” Alex said, slowly opening the sleeve of crackers and not really believing him. He was clearly angry.

“No, kid,” Elliot said with a frustrated sigh. “I’m pissed off that David Blackburn and his thugs kidnapped you and starved you for three days. People hurting kids and the people I care about pisses me off.”

“Oh.” Alex said. That was better, he supposed. “I’m mean, I’m not really a kid. I’m an agent.”

Elliot pointed a spatula at Alex and said, “Bullshit. You might be working for those bastards, but you’re still my sister’s kid. Who I’m not mad at. Now eat your crackers.”

Taking a cracker, Alex nodded and began to eat. Despite his hunger, he knew that he would puke if he ate too fast. So he slowly picked at the crackers and sipped his gatorade.

Elliot cooked in silence for a time, cutting meat and vegetables and setting water to boil. 

The silence was companionable, and Alex reveled in being safe, warm, and dry. The Blackburn guards didn’t have the stomach for bloody torture, but they’d had no problem with American style ‘enhanced interrogation.’ They’d blared heavy metal music into his cell the first night, and any moment of silence since had felt like a luxury. 

Once he had everything on the stove, Elliot turned back to Alex. The crackers and drink were only half gone, but Elliot took them from him.

“Hey!” Alex protested, reaching across the island. Elliot wasn’t exactly tall, but back when Alex was even shorter he had embraced his role as uncle and played keep away with Alex’s stuff on a regular basis. This wasn’t the time.

Elliot set them by the stove and said, “You can have them back after your stomach settles. I’ve done this re-acclimating before.”

Alex glared, but he had been getting nauseous. “Fine.”

After setting a lid on the frying pan and starting a timer, Elliot sat down across from Alex.

“How’d you get into this?” Alex asked. Elliot knew his deal now, so Alex should know his. “All I knew growing up is that you were a soldier, and then you weren’t.”

Elliot paused, mulling over his answer before saying, “I stopped fighting for Uncle Sam, but I never stopped being a soldier. After I left the service, I started doing contract work. Before long, I wasn’t fighting for anything other than the almighty dollar.”

“So you’re an assassin?” Alex asked. Why was he surprised? At this point he may as well assume Jack had been one too.

“I’m a retrieval specialist,” Elliot corrected. “My job is to get things, and hurt people to get them if I have to. I’m a hitter.” He paused before dropping his voice and saying, “I won’t lie to you, I’ve killed people for money before. But that’s not what I am. Ever since Nate made an honest man out of me, I’ve been the team’s security. I protect people.”

That was certainly better, Alex supposed. Not great, but he didn’t have room to judge. “Oh,” he said. Then a thought came to him. “Did you know Ian worked for MI6?”

Elliot nodded. “Yeah. I did a mission with some ‘6 clowns in Algeria when I was Delta Force. I figured it out the next time I saw you guys. They’re very distinctive agents.”

“Jack and I didn’t know until after he died,” Alex explained. If he hadn’t gone looking for answers, would MI6 have recruited him?

“Yeah, that’s how those folks like it,” Elliot commiserated. “Best the family never knows.”

“Yeah,” Alex said morosely. He agreed with that.

Elliot stood and stirred the food on the stove before coming back and asking, “So how’d you wind up in MI6’s sights in the first place?”

“Pretty sure Ian always wanted me to join,” Alex said. It ate at him that he didn’t know if Ian planned what happened. Had Ian betrayed him from beyond the grave, or had he intended for Alex to choose for himself as an adult? Was he in on it with them, or had Blunt and Jones taken advantage of his last wishes? Alex would never know.

“I got that impression too,” Elliot agreed, tensing his jaw. “But I figured he was going to give you the king and country shtick once you turned 18.”

Alex huffed a dry laugh. “I wish. After he died, I didn’t believe their car crash story. Ian drove like a grandma.”

Elliot twisted a smile at that.

“So I found his car, saw the bullet holes, did some stupid stuff, beat up an MI6 agent, and did other things that impressed them,” Alex explained bitterly. Was he selfish for wishing he never had? He and his friends might be dead twice over if he hadn’t stopped the people they sent him after. “They decided I was too good to lose.”

“And they didn’t take no for an answer?” Elliot asked.

Alex shook his head and Elliot’s anger came back, but Alex could see him trying to restrain it, clenching and opening his fists multiple times. 

“Bastards,” Elliot muttered.

“Bastards,” Alex agreed. Seeing Elliot get upset on his behalf was a foreign, but pleasant feeling. It was nice having someone care about what MI6 and Mrs. Jones were doing. After Jack’s death, the closest he had was Smithers and sometimes Ben, but they never stood up for him in a meaningful way. And here was Elliot, struggling to manage how upset it made him.

Once Elliot had a handle of himself, he asked, “How many missions have you gone on?”

That gave Alex pause. Which ones counted? Most of the ones since Jack’s death had blended together. With no school or suspicious teachers to worry about, sometimes all the down time Alex had between missions was a night’s sleep. “At least ten official ones. I’ve kind of lost count.”

“How much training did they give you?” Elliot asked.

“A couple weeks at basic training, some language training. Most of what I know is what Ian taught me.” And of course, Scorpia’s master class.

Elliot’s jaw dropped. “That’s all they gave you before throwing you to the wolves? Mailmen in the Coast Guard get more training than that.”

Alex shrugged. It was what it was.

“Did Ian teach you to shoot?” Elliot asked with a frown. “Cause you shoot like a Scorpia assassin.”

Here was where it all fell apart. Alex tensed and swallowed. What should he say? “I uh, I went undercover in Scorpia. So I trained on Malagosto and learned it there. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

It didn’t look like Elliot believed him, but he also didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he actually respected what Alex wanted, and wasn’t it the saddest thing how that was foreign to Alex?

Elliot nodded slowly, ignoring the half-truth, and asked, “So where are you living now?”

“With Mrs. Jones,” Alex explained with a shrug. “After Jack... well they took me out of school and gave me tutors at her flat, so I don’t have teachers all suspicious why I’m missing school and showing back up with injuries. When I’m not on a mission, I’m there.”

“Do you like it there?” Elliot asked carefully, and Alex wondered what he was leading into.

“No,” Alex said with a shrug. “I can’t leave or talk to any of my friends. The only time I snuck out was to see Tom, and they increased security so I haven’t been able to since. But I mean, it’s better than...” He trailed off. There were several comparisons he could make. Better than a boy’s home. Better than being homeless. Better than nothing. But none of those were actually true. “Actually, it’s not better than anything.”

“So screw them,” Elliot said.

Alex blinked. “What?”

“Screw them. Don’t go back,” Elliot said. Like it was that easy.

Was that even an option? “Where else would I go? They have my money and passport and you know, the government.”

“Stay here, with me,” Elliot offered. “Or in my apartment, since this is technically Nate’s place. Hardison can get you a new identity, easy.”

Alex gaped. That was inconceivable. Being free from MI6? “Really, just like that?” People didn’t make offers like that. No one just helped without an ulterior motive.

“Kid, the way I see it,” Elliot explained, leaning onto his elbows and clasping his hands. “We’re the only family each other’s got left. Even if we’re only kind of related, family is family.”

“Oh,” Alex said. Yeah, he thought of them as family too.

“And I can’t in good conscience let them keep doing this shit to you,” Elliot explained. He paused to look Alex in the eye and said, “It’s slavery, Alex. Do you realize that?”

That sat painfully in Alex’s chest. “No, it’s-”

“Do you have a choice?” Elliot demanded. “Can you leave whenever you want?”

“But they-”

“Put a roof over your head?” Elliot asked. He crossed his arms and said, “I know how these people work, so I know they ain’t giving you any money. You could use it to leave.”

It was true. Alex hadn’t wanted to think of himself as a victim like that, but everything he was saying was true. He sighed and asked, “Won’t they find me?”

“No,” Elliot assured him. “These people, my team, they can make you disappear.” He shrugged and said, “Besides, I’m wanted in five countries and no one’s gotten me yet.”

Could he really do this? Could Alex just not go back? Never have to deal with MI6 or Mrs. Jones or any of their targets again? That would be a dream. But was it too good to be true? Ash had wanted to help him, but he’d been a traitor. How did he know Elliot wouldn’t do the same? But, at this point, what did he have to lose?

“Thank you,” he breathed, half in disbelief. “Just- thank you.”

“Of course,” Elliot said. The timer went off and he said, “Now come on, food’s ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elliot wants to Fight™ MI6. 
> 
> Truly unrelated fun fact I learned while editing this chapter: In 1922 a married woman name Doris Fleischman checked into a hotel under her maiden name. This was the first time this happened in American history and it made national news.
> 
> Thanks for reading, drop a comment below!


	5. Around the Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! Life got as crazy as it can get while in quarantine for a bit there, but I'm back baby!
> 
> Somebody come get they mans. (Except its Hardison, come get your Parker).

Elliot had Alex help him bring the food out while Hardison and Parker set Nate’s table. They set down the pans and Elliot told Alex, “Help them finish up. We’re setting for six.”

Alex nodded and Elliot waved Nate over to the seating area.

“So what’s the plan?” Nate asked in a hushed tone, looking over at Alex dodging around the others as they set the table.

Elliot said, “He’s going to stay with me.”

Nate’s eyes widened, and he said, “Wow. Okay. You’re sure about this?”

“Dead set,” Elliot said, more certain that he’d been in years. He stepped closer and said, “That kid is a prisoner. They keep him locked up til they want him to dance, and they don’t even give him the training he needs not to wind up dead.”

Nate shook his head. “Somehow I’m still surprised by how morally bankrupt leaders can be.”

Smiling bitterly, Elliot said, “That’s the difference between the two of us.” He sighed and explained, “After Jack died, I never reached out to him. Figured whatever foster home they put him in would be better than life with a bunch of criminals.”

“That’s, you know, reasonable. Not like they’d let you take custody anyways,” Nate said, trying to soothe Elliot’s conscience.

“Yeah,” Elliot agreed. He knew it was true, but it didn’t do much. “But I can help him now. And I won’t let it affect the team or the jobs, I promise.”

Nate put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I’m not worried about that. Hell, as far as I’m concerned, helping him is our next job. If you want to do this, we’ll support you. Give you paternity leave, or something.”

“Thanks, Nate.” Well, Alex wasn’t his only family.

“Are we eating or not?” Hardison called from across the loft.

Elliot rolled his eyes and waved him off.

“You need anything, for you or Alex, just let us know, okay?” Nate said. Elliot nodded, and Nate grinned and clapped his shoulder before saying, “Let’s eat.”

They went back to the table and sat down, Elliot between Alex and Hardison, and Nate between Parker and Sophie.

Nate served himself a portion and asked, “Elliot? Wanna tell the troops?”

“Tell us what?” Sophie asked, intrigued.

“Alex is moving in with me,” Elliot announced gruffly.

This made Parker, who had been intently carving lines into Nate’s table, perk up and ask, “For how long?”

“As long as he wants,” Elliot explained, casting a glance at Alex. “But I’m hoping he stays until he’s grown.”

Alex smiled at him, and Elliot returned the expression. This was it, something he could do that was unequivocally good

Hardison tilted his glass at Alex and said, “Welcome to the club, man.”

Leaning across the table in excitement, Parker demanded, “Are you really a spy?”

Elliot tensed, giving Parker a warning glare, which she promptly ignored.

“More or less,” Alex answered carefully.

“Ever saved the world?” She chirped.

Alex nodded slowly and said, “Yeah, I guess.”

And damn, there wasn’t a hint of bravado in the kid. He really had saved the world.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Parker!” Sophie admonished while Hardison gently pulled Parker back.

Alex nodded in the affirmative and Elliot silently promised hell. 

“How many?” Parker asked curiously, paying everyone’s reactions no mind.

Alex frowned and started counting on his fingers, considering each one. When he moved on to his other hand, Elliot touched his arm and said, “Don’t answer that.”

Good lord, how many people had this kid been forced to kill? Nate would have to work hard to talk Elliot out of taking down MI6 brick by bloody brick.

Elliot had a special facial expression for warning people to stop and to not try any more such shit. For perhaps the first time in his life, he leveled this glare at Parker. 

She was unbothered as she asked, “What?”

“That’s not an appropriate question,” Sophie explained tightly.

“You can’t be asking people stuff like that,” Hardison said, silently willing the lord for strength. “It’s personal, babe. Personal.”

“I’ve killed three people. I don’t mind telling,” Parker said. The damn girl really didn’t think it was a big deal. 

Hardison grimaced and said, “Not the same. Why- why don’t you just eat your food? Come on, Elliot made pasta. Pasta’s your favorite.”

Parker harrumphed and took a large bite, fettucini dripping down her chin.

Elliot nudged Alex and whispered, “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said with a shrug, either unperturbed or hiding it well.

So they ate. Hardison blathered to Parker about something technical while she nodded along too quickly to be paying attention. Nate and Sophie debated the best con for a theoretical job, getting far too technical and using ridiculous names to describe simple thefts.

Elliot slipped seamlessly between the two conversations, and he noticed Alex observing silently. The kid was shrewd, and he was carefully learning the social dynamics and relationships at play in the team. 

Ian wasn’t here for Alex to give hell to, but Elliot had a feeling that he was the one in for a handful now.

“No, you’re too old for that con,” Nate told Sophie, cutting off her idea. “It would have to be Parker, and we’d need her in the vault.”

Sophie gasped melodramatically and demanded, “Are you calling me old?”

“No! No, of course not,” Nate backpedaled, trying to walk back what he’d said. “I just mean that you’re too powerful a woman to play that role. We need someone who seems more naive.”

“Nice save,” Elliot said, and Sophie rolled her eyes.

Alex cut in and said. “If you need someone younger-”

“No!” Elliot and Nate shouted simultaneously. 

The table went silent, and Alex leaned away.

“This isn’t transactional,” Elliot explained, looking Alex in the eye. It was vital that he understood. “You don’t have to do anything or give anything to live with me. That’s not how family works.”

“I just meant-”

This time Nate cut Alex off. “Kid, I’m sure you could be very useful. But it would be wrong to have you help.”

“This stuff is dangerous, and whether you can handle it doesn’t matter. Fact is, you shouldn’t have to,” Elliot added.

“Okay,” Alex frowned, and he actually looked confused. How screwed was this kid’s life that someone refusing to take advantage of him was confusing? More fuel on Elliot’s slow-burning fire against the British intelligence apparatus.

Everyone dropped the subject, and dinner progressed. The team did their best to get to know Alex while holding Parker’s intrusive questions at bay.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Sophie asked.

Alex considered for a moment and said, “I like sports, especially football. I used to be on the team at school.”

“Really?” Nate asked, surprised. “You seem kinda small for football. But I guess you could be a quarterback.”

Alex and Sophie fixed Nate with identical looks of British disdain.

“Nate...” Sophie said, shaking her head in disappointment.

“What?” Nate demanded, looking around the table for help. “What’d I do?”

“He plays real football. No ‘pig skins’ involved,” Sophie explained, giving Alex a look that said ‘Americans, right?’

Alex laughed and said, “Yeah. Association football. If I’m going to bash my head open for sports, I’d rather be snowboarding or rappelling, not chasing a gridiron.”

“That’s not-” Elliot began, the country boy in him dying a little inside. But he waved it off, it didn’t really matter. “I’ll teach you American football later.”

“You like extreme sports?” Parker asked, leaning forward again in excitement. 

When Alex nodded, they began a lively discussion of their most daring stunts. As the two daredevils told increasingly ridiculous stories, the sane adults shared looks of shock and mild concern. Alex’s exploits were more exciting than Elliot had expected.

“You sure you can handle this kid?” Hardison asked, looking at Elliot.

Honestly, Elliot wasn’t sure. “We handle Parker, don’t we?”

“Good luck, man,” Hardison said, shaking his head.

As Alex got more into the story of snowboarding down a mountain on an ironing board--which, seriously?--he gestured swiftly with one arm. The movement made him wince, and he huffed in pain. It was brief, and Alex finished his story without further incident, but Elliot caught on.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, looking Alex over and trying to spot the injuries he missed.

Alex froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. “Not badly?” he tried.

“Damn it, Alex,” Elliot said.

Sophie turned to Nate and whispered, “Definitely related to Elliot.” He shot her a sour look for her trouble.

“I’ll take care of it before I go to bed,” Alex promised, entirely missing the point. 

Elliot took a deep breath and asked, very calmly, “Are you done eating?”

Looking down at his empty plate, Alex nodded.

“Then come on, let’s patch you up,” Elliot ordered, standing up. He looked to Nate and asked, “Mind if we borrow your bathroom?”

“Feel free,” Nate said, gesturing towards the bedroom. “First aid kit should be under the sink.”

Elliot waved Alex over and said, “Let’s go, bud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it even a fanfic if a character doesn't hide their injuries?
> 
> The fun fact today is a wild ride. 
> 
> Fun fact! Someone stole a 5,000 lbs log from my uncle that's worth $10,000! Yes, a log, as in a cut down tree. So my uncle is forming his own little team to find the log again. He's got one buddy whose good at computers looking through craigslist, one that's good with people reaching out to all the local lumber mills telling them not to accept it if the thieves try to sell it (it's a very distinctive log), and the one buddy whose never been to jail whose job it is to talk to the Sheriff. The buyer he had lined up for the log put a bounty out for it, cause he wants his damn wood! (Specifically, he wants the burl the size of a cow on the side of the tree).
> 
> (Yes, this is the most redneck story ever. I'm low key inspired to write a fic where Elliot's old buddies call him in to help them find their missing tree, only to find out there's like diamonds hidden 100 years ago in it and the Louisville mob stole the log for the diamonds. And then Elliot calls the team in to help and they're like 'you want us to find a log????').
> 
> Thanks for reading, drop a line below!


	6. Patching Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More references to canon typical violence against children.
> 
> ~angst time~

Alex followed Elliot dutifully into Nate’s bathroom. He had been trying to not be a bother by taking care of his own injuries in private, but that had not worked, and now he’d bothered Elliot by him hiding them. What surprised Alex even more is that they didn’t expect, or would even allow, him to help with the team’s jobs. He had figured that Elliot had taken him in because he was useful, why else would he? Would he really help him and not expect anything in return?

Elliot pulled a large first aid kit out from under the sink and set it on the counter. “Take a seat and pull your shirt off.”

Alex sat on the edge of the bathtub and pulled his henley off, grimacing slightly as the movement pulled at his torso. He looked over at Elliot, who was washing his hands and prepping the first aid supplies. 

His uncle looked over at him and said, “Jesus Christ.”

This caused Alex to finally look at his own torso and, okay, that was a bit concerning. An extensive collection of bruises in different darknesses and sizes mottled most of his torso, as well as a good few scrapes and areas of broken skin.

Elliot padded over and crouched in front of him, setting the supplies next to them. Yet again, he was controlling his anger with great effort as he asked, “Did they beat you?”

“Yeah,” Alex explained, the same way he would say ‘duh.’ “They wanted to know who I was working for and what I’d told people. And after I told them they kept going for fun.”

“Bastards,” Elliot growled, the packaging in his hands crinkling as he clenched his fists. He looked at Alex’s back and asked, “Is this road rash?”

Alex twisted around and looked at his back, where several of his scrapes had scabbed over. “No, it’s from sliding down a roof. My shirt rode up.”

“Same difference,” Elliot muttered with his jaw clenched. He tore open an alcohol swab with enough force to rip the swab inside and began cleaning the cuts on Alex’s torso. 

Alex tensed, not used to people being so close to him without ill intent. 

“Am I hurting you?” Elliot asked, looking up and reading his expression. 

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. The sting of the swabs was negligible

Elliot peered at him for another moment before he nodded and said, “How about you do your front and I do your back? Many hands, light work and all that crap.”

Alex nodded gratefully. “Faster is better.”

So Elliot sat on the tub’s edge behind Alex and began cleaning the abrasions on his back with saline and cotton rounds. Alex opened another swab and wiped the places where the blows were hard enough to break his skin. He tried to ignore how close Elliot was.

After a few minutes of silence, Elliot spoke. “So,” he began, treading lightly. “What’s the real deal with you and Scorpia?”

Alex froze. He couldn’t tell him the truth. No one would want to take in a terrorist. “I told you,” he tried. “I went undercover.”

“If you really don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” Elliot said, continuing to clean out the grit that had gotten into Alex’s back. “But can you listen to what I have to say first?”

Wondering what he meant, Alex nodded slowly.

“I’m not a good guy,” Elliot began gravely. “Or at least, I wasn’t always. I’m trying to be better now, but I’ve done a lot, hurt a lot of people. I used to work for this guy, I was his attack dog. I killed people for him, Alex. Innocent people.”

This should make Alex afraid. Should make him want to run for the hills or back into MI6’s waiting arms. And yet he stayed still and let Elliot care for him.

Elliot continued his story as he rubbed something cold on Alex’s back. “I’ve got so much blood on my hands, I don’t know if they’ll ever be clean. But this, what I do with Nate and the team, this feels like bleach. Whatever you did, no matter what you think of it, it won’t change things between us.”

Taking a shaky breath, Alex asked, “Will you tell the others?”

“No,” Elliot promised. “Anything you tell me stays between us.”

And so Alex told him. He told him how Yassen led him to find Scorpia. How they tricked him and how he joined. How he almost killed Mrs. Jones and how he eventually went undercover. How he killed Ash and Rothman.

Elliot listened and offered no commentary. No disbelief, no pearl-clutching, just a silent ear. It made telling the story bearable.

After Alex finished explaining, Elliot leaned down and grabbed a few site pads from the first aid kit. As he looked back up at Alex, he nodded at his chest and asked, “They do that?”

Alex rubbed at the sinewy scar over his heart. While it had healed almost perfectly, sometimes he still felt an ache deep in his chest. “Scorpia never forgives, Scorpia never forgets.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Elliot muttered darkly. He pressed the pads into the freshly cleaned scrapes and taped them down.

“They killed Jack,” Alex blurted out before he lost his nerve. Elliot deserved to know.

Elliot’s hands froze. After a moment he asked, “Which ones?”

“Zeljan Kurst, Razim, and Julius Grief,” Alex rattled off. He’d never forget those names.

“Are they-”

“I killed them,” Alex promised. “Interpol executed Kurst, and I killed Grief and Razim.”

“Good,” Elliot agreed. “They told me, or rather the P.O. box belonging to Elliot Starbright, that she died in a car bombing. Made it sound like she collateral damage in the usual Middle East shit show.”

Alex shook his head and clenched his own jaw. “No. They blew her up to hurt me. Made me watch.”

“Bastards,” Elliot growled again. He ran his fingers over the tape holding the dressings down and said, “I’m all done.”

Alex sighed in relief and scooted away. “Thanks.”

Elliot kneeled in front of Alex and caught his eye. “Hey,” he said. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? My offer still stands, you’re still welcome here and in my home, okay?”

Alex’s shoulders sagged, and he said again, “Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“See that’s the thing about family,” Elliot said. “You don’t have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll fight a man over chosen family tropes.
> 
> Fun fact! (That's actually horrible). Ben Shapiro wrote a truly terrible novel and his writing style is just like mine. I have never had a more soul-crushing realization. But at least I don't write terrible self insets like GeNeRaL bReTt HaWtHoRnE. Bonus fun fact! Because of this I'm 99% certain Ben Shapiro writes fanfic because he's got that fanfic style.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment and I'll love you forever.


	7. Freak Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I really struggled with this chapter, but I think I wrestled it into some satisfactory. Warnings continuing from previous chapters.
> 
> Enjoy the penultimate chapter!

After Alex assured him that he could handle dressing the cuts and scrapes under his pants, Elliot left him to it. As he re-entered the main room, he thought about what Alex had said.

Scorpia killed Jack. And Elliot hadn’t even suspected. Normally he would hunt down and kill everyone involved, but Alex had already done that. And, if all the rumors about MI6’s pet kid were true, he’d also taken down the whole organization. So now what did Elliot do?

When he looked over at the table, he saw Hardison having a fit in front of his laptop. Hardison’s hand was over his mouth and he was slowly but surely losing it. He reached out and touched the top of his laptop then drew his hand back like he’d been burned as he debated closing the machine.

“You good, Hardison?” Elliot asked as he strode over. What had his panties in a bunch?

Hardison shook his head and pushed back from the table. “No! I’m not good. This isn’t what we do. This is Mission Impossible, James Bond, Marvel movie villain shit!”

Elliot frowned and grabbed Hardison’s arm, pushing him into another chair. “Breathe, man, breathe. Now, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Blackburn,” Hardison said, staring up at him. “I was looking at the files we took from his computer. We thought they were selling weapons they shouldn’t be, thought that’s why they had the client’s dad killed.”

“Yeah,” Elliot agreed. “What’s the problem?” While Hardison had a history of dramatics, he hadn’t seen the hacker this shaken in a while.

Hardison shook his head and said, “They’re making weapons, man. But not- not the kind they should be. Not the normal blow it up or shoot it or anything involving metal or fire like weapons are meant to.”

“Hardison!” Elliot snapped, shaking him by the shoulder. “Words. What weapons?”

“They’re making human weapons,” Hardison implored, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Like Captain America stuff. Making super soldiers.”

Well, shit. “So that’s why the CIA sent Alex in.”

“And, and, all that shit was on Blackburn’s personal computers. But so were the _videos_.” Hardison looked haunted as he mentioned the videos, whispering the word like it was some blasphemy.

Elliot shook his head in confusion and asked, “What, did you find kiddie stuff?”

Hardison shook his head and said, “No. I mean, actually, it might count. Why the hell else would Blackburn want a video of that? I mean, he even helped in one of them.”

“Damn it, Hardison,” Elliot growled, irritation starting to overtake his concern. “What was on the videos?”

Hardison looked sick as he said, “They tort-tortured Alex. And took videos of it. Ones that Blackburn had on his personal computer and watched more than once.”

Elliot growled, low and long. “We knew Blackburn was a creep, but that...”

“You’re telling me!” Hardison insisted. “I don’t- I never wanted to see that.”

“Have you told Nate?” Elliot demanded. He was going to flay Blackburn, job be damned. “Cause I’m this close to saying screw the con and just skinning this guy.”

“I haven’t yet, but I’m not as motivated to curb your murderous tendencies as I usually am,” Hardison admitted. He muttered darkly, “I could go for some murder right about now.”

“Is Elliot being a bad influence?” Nate asked as he walked into the room. 

Hardison shook his head and said, “No, but we both need you to talk us out of murder right now.”

“Why?” Nate asked, sounding tired. “I thought the job went pretty well. You know, we got in, got out. We picked up a stray, but it all worked out. You got enough dirt to bring him down, right?”

“Too much,” Hardison said.

Nate grimaced. “What does that mean?”

“It means Blackburn Technologies has been experimenting on people, and that Dave Blackburn had Alex tortured,” Elliot explained. This day was not good for his blood pressure, and he didn’t even have blood pressure issues. “And took videos to watch in his happy times.”

A door slammed behind them, and Elliot turned to see Alex standing in the hallway. “There’s video? And he watched it?”

“Like ten times,” Hardison said, and Elliot glared at him. The kid didn’t need details.  
Alex walked over to them, redressed and looking much cleaner now. But he looked shaken by this new-found knowledge.

“The plan was to release Blackburn’s dirty laundry to the press, right? Create such an uproar that even a government contractor couldn’t get by without a thorough investigation. I mean, if you want a public outcry-”

Elliot cut Nate off and demanded, “The hell, Nate? You can’t- it ain’t just Blackburn getting exposed here! That shit would play on the news for a month, and then never go away. And Blackburn wouldn’t be the only sick fuck watching it.”

“I just meant, if we ask Alex and he’s okay with it, it could help ensure the outcome,” Nate said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Oh yeah, just ask him,” Elliot scoffed. “Like the kid who just escaped torture, and who already tried to throw himself on the pyre once, is in the right frame of mind to make that call. It’s not like he would feel pressured to do whatever we want!”

“Hey!” Alex shouted, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “I can think and speak for myself, believe it or not.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Elliot tried. Damn it, he didn’t know what to do with teenagers.

“I don’t want those videos on the internet,” Alex explained, crossing his arms. “You’re right, they’d never go away and with how big the news would be, I’d always be that kid.”

Exactly. Elliot looked at Nate and said, “See-”

“But I’m not some passive victim, Uncle Elliot.” Alex cut him off. “And I know that video would help take him down.” He looked to Hardison and asked, “Did he record the one where he helped?”

Hardison nodded and said, “Yeah, he did.” 

“You’re the tech wizard, right?” He asked, and when Hardison nodded he continued, “Can you disguise me on the tapes? Do, like, a deep fake or those randomly generated face things and make it not look like me?”

“Easily,” Hardison said.

That was a great way to split the baby. Elliot was impressed.

Apparently it impressed Nate too, because he said, “That’s... perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Elliot asked Alex. He didn’t want the kid trying to help them at his own expense. “You don’t have to do this. We have enough.”

“I’m sure,” Alex said, crossing his arms. “If he’s going to jail, I want every other inmate to know he’s he likes to hurt kids.” 

“Kid’s got a point,” Hardison pointed out.

Did Alex ever get a say in what happened to the people who hurt him? He killed some of them, but most likely MI6 hauled them away. If Hardison could protect Alex’s privacy, Elliot saw no reason to begrudge him this level of control.

Nate looked to Elliot for approval before saying, “Alright. Hardison, get the video ready along with the rest of the report, then send it to every news station. Don’t send it to any law enforcement until the story runs. We don’t want Alex’s former employers shutting down any investigation before the public can properly demand one. I want elections won and lost on this investigation.”

“I know my job, Nate,” Hardison said, waving him off. “I’ll get it ready.”

“You got time to help Alex disappear?” Elliot asked.

“Which one should I do first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one in the books. 
> 
> Fun fact! My friend actually works for the airforce genetically engineering super soldiers. (Okay, she works on the Cognitive Enhancement project using genetics to marginally increase the reaction speeds of pilots. But the physical enhancement division is totally Captain America.) Also, would they be super soldiers or super airmen?


	8. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you hate your last chapter, say you'll come back to it, and then don't for two months. Oops. Thanks to the Alex Rider discord and especially @LokiOfJotunheim for inspiring me to finally finish this!

Alex stared down at the phone in his hands, hardly believing what he was about to do. 

“Are you sure about this?” Elliot asked for the umpteenth time.

They sat side by side on the couch, with the rest of the team spread around the room. Opposite them, Hardison had his laptop and a speaker rig ready to sell their deception.

Elliot continued, “You can just let them assume Blackburn killed you.”

“I’m sure,” Alex said. “They’ll try to send a rescue mission eventually, maybe even pull in my old SAS unit. And there’s still a few people who I don’t want thinking I died horribly.”

“Okay,” Elliot agreed, unhappy with this course of action. But he was letting Alex make the choice.

Hardison said, “Don’t worry, man. Only Jesus himself could trace this call. And our trick is perfect.”

“It still seems like a ri-”

Before Elliot could finish his sentence, the six TVs came alive, each blaring a different news opener at full volume.

Sophie shouted at Hardison over the din while Parker covered her ears.

Hardison scrambled for the remote and turned down the volume. Once it was low enough to think over again, he explained, “My bad! I had them all programmed to turn on when the Blackburn story broke. Guess all the stations chose the six o’clock news.”

Each screen showed a different channel, but Alex focused on a national one that he recognized.

_“We have breaking news this hour, regarding startling and disturbing allegations against the defense contractor and multinational conglomerate Blackburn Technologies, and their CEO David Blackburn,” the host, a coiffed blonde woman, explained._

_“Our sources have provided extensive documentation of illegal human experimentation in Blackburn’s facilities, as well as video that allegedly shows CEO David Blackburn assaulting a kidnapped child. The following footage is disturbing and viewer discretion is advised.”_

A video filled the screen, and Alex’s stomach twisted. It showed the horribly familiar room where he had been held. Blackburn was there, looking just as perversely excited as Alex remembered him, alongside several guards. The most important difference, however, was the boy in the chair.

In real life, it had been Alex chained to that chair, but now an unrecognizable boy was in his place. Hardison had done an incredible job and had assured Alex that the face superimposed over his didn’t belong to anyone. An AI had created it from the features of a dozen different boys.

He watched as Blackburn ordered his guards to hurt him in various ways, and then as Blackburn gleefully took over. He remembered each blow and each moment of pain, how there was no point to it. How he’d already told Blackburn everything, and how this was just for his sick amusement.

The video ended, and the newscaster said, _“Law enforcement has not yet responded to our request for comment, and the boy in the video has not been ident-”_

The screens went black, and Alex turned around to see Elliot pointing the remote like a weapon. His uncle’s chest heaved with rage as his grip threatened to crack the device’s plastic.

“This is good,” Nate said, trying to refocus the room. “Every parent in the country who saw that will be as outraged as you, and no amount of CIA meddling will stop the public outcry for a speedy and public trial.”

“That doesn’t mean Alex has to see it,” Elliot hissed.

Alex crossed his arms and snapped, “If I don’t want to watch it I’ll look away.” But he didn’t know how he felt about what he’d seen. It was his ordeal with someone else’s face. How was he supposed to handle that?

Before things could escalate, Hardison interjected, “We’re losing the window here. If we miss this, I’ll have to set everything up for a different flight.”

“Let’s do it,” Alex resolved. He unlocked the phone Hardison had given him, and Nate held up a hand to hush the room as Hardison enacted their plan.

The ambient noise of an airport filled the room, complete with bustling people and distant flights departing. 

“There’s no taking this back,” Elliot cautioned him.

“I’ve never been more sure,” Alex promised. Elliot put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he dialed. 

After an agonizing few rings, Mrs. Jones picked up. 

_“Who are you and how did you get this number?”_ She demanded. 

“It’s me,” Alex said, suddenly tight chested.

Mrs. Jones’ tone shifted immediately to over the top motherly concern. _“Alex! Oh thank god, are you alright?”_

The concern in Jones’ voice turned Alex’s nerves into anger. She always acted like a worried mother when Alex came home, but a week, a month, or even a few days later she would throw him back to the wolves.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Alex said sardonically. “Just got lightly tortured, like on every other mission you send me on.”

 _“Oh dear, we’ll certainly get you to the best doctors.”_ Mrs. Jones promised. _“Where are you? We’ll send an extraction team.”_

“I got captured 12 hours after I called for extraction,” Alex pointed out, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elliot grind his teeth. “Why would they show up this time?”

Jones waved that away. _“You know how it is working with the Americ-”_

“Just shut up, Tulip,” Alex snapped. And man, did that feel good. 

There was a moment of silence before- _“Pardon me?”_

“I quit,” Alex announced, savoring the words. Never again, they would never force him on a mission again.

 _“Come now, Alex,”_ Mrs. Jones patronized, and her simpering expression was audible. _“We both know-”_

“That you’ll drag me back and lock me up again?” Alex demanded. “Fuck you. I’m not your slave anymore.”

Mrs. Jones tried, _“Now, that’s a bit har-”_

“Fuck you and fuck everyone in ‘6,” Alex spat. Each word lifted some weight from his chest. “Don’t try to find me--I won’t go easy on your agents. I’m done being your kept boy.”

He pointed a finger towards Hardison, who pressed a key and a distant, tinny voice filled the space. They had carefully calibrated it to be audible but not discernible on Jones’ end, making its inevitable discovery seem like an error on Alex’s part.

_“Flight 137 to Munich, now boarding section C.”_

“I have to go,” Alex said before Jones could answer. “Don’t try to find me.”

_“Al-"_

He hung up on her and stared at the phone in his hand before looking up at Elliot with a shaky smile. He was free. He was free.

Elliot clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, “Welcome to life on the run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, it's finished! Now to see if the sequel that I have _Christ Almighty_ 4600 words of outline for, ever gets written. (I'm kind of in love with this universe ngl).
> 
> Fun fact! (I promise it's actually fun this time!) I'm involved in a project to podcast a classic Alex Rider fic. I'm playing Alex, because I supposedly sound like Aiden Gallagher and Five from Umbrella Academy is very much the right energy for Alex.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed! Love you all!


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